


dainty

by ughhheragain



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:55:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28792053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ughhheragain/pseuds/ughhheragain
Summary: Tommy falls for a pianist.
Relationships: Tommy Shelby/Reader
Kudos: 10





	dainty

**Author's Note:**

> This work was originally posted on my Tumblr but I wanted to share it here as well.  
> Gif isn't mine, full credit to the owner.

  * The very first time he had ever heard you play the piano was when he came down to the Garrison unexpectedly with hopes that a good glass of gin would help clear his mind for a bit.
  * When he stepped into the crowded place, he was surprised - if not worried - to see that the lights were dimmed and that it wasn’t as loud as usual. The sounds of glasses clinking and drunk waves of laughter weren’t filling the room and it grabbed his attention right away.
  * Alert, he took a few more steps, nodded to the men that locked eyes with him, and arrived at the bar.



_« What’s your poison tonight, Mr. Shelby? »_

_« Whisky, and make it ice cold - please. »_

  * His drink was handed to him a short instant later and he drank it all on the spot, desperate to drown his mind in something else than the issues he’d have to deal with thereafter.
  * Eyes locked on the liquor that was spinning in his glass, his mind started to wander.
  * However, something captured his attention. A melody that was sweeter than all the things he had heard in the past days. He remained in the same position for a moment, actually taking the time to enjoy something for once, and took a deep breath as his eyes closed.
  * The pub was still as silent as it was when he came in and he acknowledged in his head that the unusual calm was pretty soothing, after all.
  * After a while, he considered that he had heard enough and that it was time to see who was playing this beautiful melody. And so, he turned around and got on his feet, walked closer to the source, and came across such a beautiful woman that his breath got cut for a second.
  * He then quickly looked around in order to make sure that no one had witnessed him being taken off guards and turned his gaze back to you.
  * There you were, completely consumed by the music that you were playing. Your fingers moved to fast yet so delicately that Tommy wondered how you were doing it without messing up.
  * He hated to admit it for some reason - perhaps because it would’ve sounded stupid or weak if he had said it out loud - but there was something special about you even though he couldn’t quite place a finger nor a word on it yet.
  * He stayed a bit longer to listen to another song and once he judged that his mind had been eased a little, he went home. That night, the melody was replaying over and over again in his head and your face would appear every time he’d close his eyes.
  * From then on, he would come more often to the Garrison and wish that you would be playing that night or the other. It took him a few weeks to build the courage to ask you to keep him company for dinner at his. Not that he was intimidated or else, but he didn’t know if he had any patience left to get to know another woman without being mislead again.
  * That’s when your eyes met at the end of a show that he deemed that you were worth the risk.
  * On your anniversary, he surprised you with a brand new black piano that he had requested to be placed in the living room, by the window so that you could play while facing the sun and him relaxing on the sofa by your side.
  * Every time that you played in his presence, his eyes would be stuck on your fingers. He couldn’t quite explain why but he found them so delicate and dainty and he was just fond of the way they would ever so gently push the keys to create a prettier melody than the previous one each time.
  * Sometimes, he would just sit next to you mid-song and articulate a soft _« No, no, keep playing, don’t mind me, » before kissing your cheek._
  * Others, he would come home exhausted after a day of looking after every single person except his own and just collapse on the sofa. You would rush by his side, stroke his cheek, and ask him if there was anything you could do to make him feel a bit better and he would lazily whisper « Play something sweet for me, would ya? » and so, you would choose the melody that you knew never failed to make him fall asleep in less than a few minutes.
  * On multiple occasions, you had tried to convince him to learn a few melodies with you and he would manage to get away but on one Sunday afternoon - when he was feeling particularly happy for once - he finally accepted. Placing himself next to you on the small bench, he looked at you patiently, waiting for instructions. Since he didn’t know what to do at all, he remained silent as you took his fingers one by one and placed them on different keys.



_« Did I do well? »_

_« No, silly. I know you can do way better. »_

_« True. Let me show you. »_


End file.
